Falling Slowly
by GirlInTheMirror121
Summary: AU: The Glee Project. Damian is the new foreign exchange student at a large school in Texas. A blonde-haired boy catches his eye; Damian immediately wants to know more about him and doesn't know why. Song-fic inspired by "Falling Slowly"; T for later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I'm not affiliated with anyone from The Glee Project.**

**Note: Okay, so I know doing four stories at once is crazy, but I like to keep my creative mind occupied, and I could not resist writing this one. It's a multi-chapter song-fic to "Falling Slowly", and the pairing is Damian/Cameron. There will be nine chapters total. Please review.  
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_I don't know you  
>But I want you<br>All the more for that_

Damian McGinty sighed as his host family dropped him off at school. He wasn't sure how high school in America would compare to secondary school in Ireland, but he hoped that it wouldn't be too different, that he wouldn't be too much of an outcast. He tentatively pushed open the door, only to immediately be swallowed up into the crush of moving teenage bodies in the main hallway. It was enough to draw in a sharp breath, and he was pushed to the side by the herd of people. Damian shook his head and headed towards the front office to turn in his paperwork.

"Hello, dear," the secretary greeted him warmly. "You must be Damian. Welcome to Chestnut High. Here, I'll take those papers from you." He wordlessly handed them over, slowly taking in his new surroundings. "Everything seems to be in order," she said, shuffling through the papers. "Here's your locker number and combination, as well as your class schedule. If you need anything else, come and see me." The phone rang as she handed him his schedule, and she reached over to answer it. "Good morning, Chestnut High School, this is Jane speaking, how may I help you?" Damian took this to be his dismissal, and attempted to figure out his map to the school. From what he could tell, his locker was two hallways over, and his homeroom was just next door to it. He wandered in that general direction and managed to find the locker without too much trouble.

That's when he saw him for the first time.

A tall boy with messy blonde hair and glasses was standing at the locker above Damian's, putting books in and taking other ones out. "Excuse me," Damian said quietly. "But I believe you're standing in front of my locker." The blonde boy nodded in apology, closed his locker door, slung his bag over his shoulder, and walked away. Damian sighed; he hoped it wouldn't be hard to make friends here, like it was at home. He tugged his locker open after a few false tries and consulted his class schedule to see what notebooks he'd need for that morning. He put what he didn't need away and shuffled to his homeroom. He didn't know why, but he was hoping he'd see the blonde haired boy again. There was something about the way the boy had been dressed that compelled the Irish boy, something about his attitude and eyes that drew him in. He looked around the room, but didn't see the kid anywhere. Dejectedly, he handed over his information to his teacher and slid into a desk in the back row, wanting to become invisible. He was supposed to think of this as a fresh start; no one here knew his secrets. No one knew about his life, or his ghosts, or the skeletons in his closet. He could start anew, at least for nine months, at which time he'd have to go back home and to the hell he left behind there.

He went through the new motions of his day, hardly speaking to anyone, afraid that they'd use his accent against him, that they'd use being _different_ against him, like they all did. By the end of the day, he still hadn't seen the blonde haired boy again, and was feeling quite down due to it. He slid into his last class of the day, Physics, and took a seat at one of the long benches that had been set up. The one thing Damian was good at was science, and he had been on the accelerated track at his school in Ireland, which was why he was able to take a senior-level class as a junior. The bell rang, and at the last minute, the blonde-haired boy darted into the room, taking the empty seat next to Damian. Damian's heart pounded; he had wondered what the boy's name was all day, and it was driving him crazy. Now, he was finally going to be able to find out. He peered at the boy's notebook, but didn't see a name on it. Now that he could see the boy up close, Damian got a better look at it. God, he was hot, with eyes that just drew you into him and not a blemish on his face. There was a bit of scruff on his chin, giving him an air of rugged manliness, which Damian hated to admit, was turning him on, though he didn't know why. "Hey, what's your name?" He found himself whispering.

"Mr. McGinty?" The teacher said. "I'll forgive you for today, because it's your first day, but I will not tolerate talking in my class unless I tell you otherwise."

"I'm sorry, ma'am," he replied politely, blushing at the chastisement. He scribbled the notes on the board with a new fervor, slight adrenaline racing through his veins; he was in his element in this class. When the final bell rang, he looked up in surprise; the hour had flown by, and he'd survived the first day of American school. "Hey," he tried to get the attention of the blonde-haired boy before leaving the classroom, but he had gone before Damian even had the chance to put his notebook away. Defeated, Damian trudged back to his locker. The boy was nowhere in sight. Shoulders slumped, Damian unlocked his locker, grabbing what he needed for homework that night. He nearly didn't see the piece of paper that had been jammed through the slot of the door, but spotted it just in time. Heart racing, he unfolded it, half of him hoping it was the blonde boy, and the other half hoping it was just a mistake and he could keep going through invisible. Curiously, hungrily, he read it. It said just one word.

_Cameron_.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Slowly, nor do I know Damian or Cameron.**

**Note: I will get back to writing Hallelujah, dear readers, so no worries with that. This semester is more rigorous than last, and now that I'm involved with Campus Activities Board and switched my work hours, my schedule is a bit hectic. I thought I'd just leave you with this for now, dearest fans. **

_Words fall through me  
>And always fool me<br>And I can't react_

Cameron, Damian thought to himself over and over as he lay in bed that night. His name is Cameron. He wondered desperately what Cameron's voice sounded like, as he'd never heard it before, and if a beautiful sound would emit from his throat that matched perfectly his beautiful face. Damian shuddered with newfound desire as he thought about the way Cameron moved, the way his hips swung from side to side tantalizingly, how he had smelled vaguely like cinnamon when he was close by. He gasped as he looked down to find himself half-aroused, instantly feeling a rush of emotions. He'd had a girlfriend, it was true, for nearly a year before she broke his heart. He loved her, of course he loved her. He just hated what she did to him. But Damian did not want to think about that right now. All he wanted to think about was Cameron.

_God,_ Damian thought to himself. _Why am I so obsessed with a person I have hardly met_? He rolled over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow, half-expecting it to smell like home, but found that it smelled of some fancy American fabric softener. Instead of feeling soothed, he crinkled his nose and flopped onto his side, staring at the window on the wall across from him. A full moon shone through, casting a pale light into the room and across his face. He glanced over at the digital clock on the nightstand and watched the red numbers roll from 1:03 to 1:04. Sighing, he dug into the drawer of the nightstand, took out a black leather-bound journal, and began to write…

* * *

><p>Damian felt a little more confident walking into school the next day. He found his locker easily, and prayed that if he stayed around long enough, Cameron would show up. Even if he only got a glimpse of the boy, Damian would be satisfied. Time passed, and before he knew it, there were only five minutes before homeroom began. Giving up hope (and briefly forgetting that Cameron was, in fact, in his Physics class later that day), he began to shuffle towards the door, only to spot Cameron heading down the hall out of the corner of his eye. "Cameron, hey!" He waved as the boy passed. Cameron didn't answer; he kept walking down the hall and around the left corner. Sighing, Damian closed his eyes and leaned against the wall, wondering why his heart fluttered and his stomach leapt whenever he saw the blonde. After all, he was straight, wasn't he?<p>

Wasn't he?

* * *

><p>Damian sat in his Physics class, anxiously awaiting Cameron's arrival. When the bell rang and the blonde boy had not made his appearance, Damian relaxed a little, letting out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. Cameron walked in a few moments later.<p>

"I will speak with you after class, Mr. Mitchell," their no-nonsense teacher said.

_Cameron Mitchell_, Damian thought to himself, writing it down in his memory. He opened his notebook and tried to focus on the notes in front of him on the board, but inside, he was trembling like a leaf on an autumn tree. He took in a breath and inhaled that spicy, cinnamon smell that was Cameron Mitchell, committing it to memory, hoping to smell it later in his dreams. Without consciously realizing it, he began to doodle hearts in the margins of his notes, and several times he caught himself about to write Cameron's name, but quickly erased the beginning letters before anyone could see. When the bell rang, he slowly packed up his belongings and strayed outside the classroom until Cameron walked out, his face impassive and unreadable. "Cameron," he said, loud enough to be able to be heard over the crowd of students that flocked the halls.

"What?" Cameron spun around, staring down at Damian, where he towered a good four inches over the dark-haired boy. "Oh, it's you. What do you want?"

Damian fumbled in his mind for the words he wanted to say. "I'm Damian McGinty," he said in a rush. "I'm your locker mate."

"I have absolutely no idea what you just said," Cameron blinked at him after several moments' silence. " Sorry. But I have to go to work now. See you around, what's-your-name."

Damian watched as he walked away, embarrassed to have made a fool of himself, eyes trained on Cameron's ass for reasons he could not decipher at the moment. His face reddened as he realized what he was doing, and at how amazingly tight and skinny Cameron's jeans were. Cameron's voice rang through his head, straying around his ears like mosquitoes. There was a slow, deliberate way in which he spoke that captured Damian, with just a touch of accent in his words. Damian shuffled to his locker, spinning the dial open and pulling out what he needed, putting away what he didn't. He silently cursed himself for being so moonstruck over Cameron; chances were he had a girlfriend, a handsome man like him. And besides, why would he want someone like Damian, who was so broken and lost?

And in that case, who would _ever_ want someone like Damian?

Because she certainly didn't.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Falling Slowly.**

**Note: Alrighty, so this story is slowly starting to become my top priority. Maybe it's because it's only nine chapters long, maybe it's just easier to write and the story is more concrete than the others I'm working on, I don't know. Anyway, here you go.**

_And games that never amount  
>To more than they're meant<br>Will play themselves out_

"Hey, Mum," Damian whispered as he called his mother late one evening.

"Hullo, honey," she said warmly. "How's it going over there?"

"It's okay," he sighed. "I miss you, though." Somewhat of a lie, but he wasn't about to tell her that. "It's so much warmer here, and the air is…drier."

She laughed. "We miss you too, love. Have you made any friends?"

Damian thought for a moment. "I suppose," he shrugged, realizing that she couldn't see him and feeling silly. "I'm still getting used to things, I guess."

"As long as you're having a good time," she said. "Do you want to talk to Emmett?"

"No, thanks. I'll, um, I'll Facebook him later," he told her. "Oh, I, uh, should go. Lots of, you know, homework."

"Of course," she said. "I love you."

"Love you, too," he said softly before hanging up. As much as he wanted to keep talking to her and to his older brother, Emmett, he was afraid that he'd let his secret slip.

No, not the secret of what his ex-girlfriend did to him.

But rather, his newest secret, one that gave him an anxiety attack whenever he thought of it, praying that it wasn't true, that it was all in his head.

He knelt by his bed, clasping his grandmother's rosary between his hands. "Dear Lord Jesus," he said. "Please, give me strength. Please, tell me that what I'm feeling is not true, that I'm not falling like this. I don't want to fall out of Your grace by having these feelings for this person. I beg of you, Lord, point me in the right direction. Amen." He made the sign of the cross, touching the rosary to his lips and tucking it into his bedside drawer.

"Damian?" Mary, the younger girl in his host family, poked his head in. "Will you please read me a bedtime story? I asked Jack, but he told me to get lost."

He smiled sweetly at the little girl in pigtails and footie pajamas. "Of course I will. Why don't you go get into bed, and I'll be there in a moment."

"Thanks, you're the best!" She bounced away. Damian chuckled to himself; as the baby of his family, he was enjoying having a younger brother and a younger sister. Mary was five, and Jack was ten, and Damian liked having them around to help take his mind of off things. They had been very curious at first, asking him about his home country and to say various words in his "cool accent", and they were all slowly becoming more comfortable with each other. He went down the hall to Mary's bedroom and settled himself in the small white chair next to her bed at her craft table.

"So what are we reading tonight?" She handed him over a book. "Huh, I've never heard of Junie B. Jones. Is it any good?"

"It's about a girl, an' she's in kindergarten, an' it's really funny," she gave him a gap-toothed grin.

"Sounds good to me," he opened to the first page and began to read. After three chapters, she was fast asleep. He chuckled softly and placed the book on her desk. He kissed her gently on the forehead, turned off her lamp, and quietly left the room. In the hall, he ran into Jack.

"Hey, I don't get this science homework. You're really good at science, aren't you?"

"Quite good," Damian smiled smugly. "Shall I take a look?"

"Eh, if you want," Jack shrugged and trudged to his room. Damian sighed and followed him; this was going to be an interesting nine months.

* * *

><p>"Checking out my ass, kid?" Cameron joked as moved things around in his locker. How he knew Damian was behind him at that moment without turning around, Damian did not know, but it always impressed him whenever it happened.<p>

"Um, no, not at all," Damian immediately blushed. "Just, you know, waiting for you to move so I can get to my locker."

Cameron smirked knowingly and closed the door. "It's okay," he said. He leaned close to Damian's ear, his hot breath tickling Damian's skin and making him shudder with lust. "I like that the girls _and_ the boys want me," he said in a low, sensual voice. Gasping, Damian spun around, watching Cameron strut down the hall, putting his arm around a friend and laughing along with her. He sighed and busied himself at his locker. So what if he had been checking out Cameron's ass? It was a nice ass, and it was Cameron's own fault for wearing super-tight jeans in the first place. Just because he was looking at another boy's ass didn't make him gay, did it?

* * *

><p>"Oh no, no, no, God please no," Damian muttered as he woke up to find his sheets sticky out of bed, shaking from head to toe. "No…I can't be…I'm not…" He tried to push the fantastic dream from his mind as he quickly changed the sheets, making a note to do his own laundry the next day. How embarrassing, he thought, to have a dream like this in the guest bed and with the guest sheets of a family that's not your own. As he lay amid the fresh, clean sheets that he'd snatched from the linen closet in the hallway, he replayed the dream in his memory. Cameron had been kissing him: his neck, his lips, his chest…oh, Damian closed his eyes, recalling it. It had all felt so good, so <em>very<em> good, unlike anything with his ex-girlfriend had ever felt. He shook himself out of it.

"Everyone's a little bi sometimes, right?" He muttered to himself. "This is totally normal. Guys have man-crushes, like women have girl-crushes. I'm not gay." He laughed to himself, sounding a little unsure even to his own mind. "I'm not gay…right?"


	4. Chapter 4

__**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or Falling Slowly.**

**Note: Again, this is taking over. Just whipped up this chapter between class and dinner tonight to set up their friendship. Hope you like!  
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_Take this sinking boat and point it home  
>We've still got time<br>Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice  
>You'll make it now<em>

"No…no," Damian tossed and turned in his sleep. "Please, no, don't…I don't want to do that, stop…" He awoke to someone shaking him awake. "Huh?"

"You were having a bad dream," little Mary whispered. "I was going to the bathroom, and I heard you talking and crying in your sleep. It's okay, I get bad dreams, too."

"Oh…well, yes, thank you," he slowly sat up.

"Want me to get you a cup of water? That's what Mommy does when I have a bad dream," she asked sweetly.

"Yes, please, that would be very nice," he replied. He sighed as she scampered out of the room and down to the kitchen. He'd been having the Dream again, the one that replayed what happened with his ex-girlfriend on a loop, never letting up, each take of the scene becoming more horrifying and realistic. He had this dream at least once a week, never knowing what night it would arrive. He gratefully accepted the glass of water that Mary held out to him, sipping it slowly, setting the cup on the nightstand when he was done.

"Feel better?" She asked.

"A bit. Thank you, Mary," he smiled in appreciation.

"What was the dream about?" She inquired.

He thought about it, contemplating if he should tell such an explicit story to a small child. He declined and played it safe. "It was about a monster," he said simply.

She shivered. "Oooh. Well, I hope you have nice dreams now," she stood on her toes and kissed him on the cheek before heading back to her own bed. Damian sighed again; it had been a half-lie. She had been a monster, she had, for what she tried to do to him, and for what she got away with doing. He found it sad that little children did not understand that monsters weren't just in fairy-tales; they existed in real life, too.

* * *

><p>Damian felt a sharp pain as he was slammed against the wall. "Give me your money," the bigger boy hissed in his ear. "Give me all your money, twerp."<p>

"No, please, I don't have any," Damian begged.

"Oh, he doesn't have any?" The bully turned to his cronies. "Let's check on that, shall we?" Damian felt his wrists being twisted around and he whimpered in pain as they rummaged in his pockets, extracting his wallet. "You lying to us, twerp?" The head bully sneered. "We don't like liars around here, do we, boys?"

"I'm thinking a swirlie," the second-in command suggested.

"Nah, atomic wedgie," the third one proposed.

"I'm thinking you three losers should leave him alone," a familiar voice spoke up. Damian gasped, craning his neck in an attempt to see. "Mitchell, get lost," the head bully scoffed at the gangly boy.

"Or what?" Cameron raised a brow. "What'll you do, eh?"

"Uh, well, uh," the jocks stammered.

"You know," Cameron tapped his chin. "My dad happens to be very good friends with Coach Ryan. I could just tell him that you three were violating school policies again…"

"No, no, we'll back down," he held up his hands in surrender. "Here, man, here's your wallet back. Just…please, dude, don't tell, I can't afford to lose my scholarship."

"Then turn around and go back to class," Cameron said quietly but sternly. They turned tail and sulked around the corner. Damian rubbed his wrist, stuffing his wallet back in his pocket, tears springing to his eyes. Cameron, who had been smiling in accomplishment over his victory, turned to Damian. "Hey, you okay, kid?"

Damian shook his head. "Why'd you help me?"

"I was on my way to take a piss, and I heard you cry out. Those jocks are always looking for a new kid to pick on, and I guess they finally discovered you. They never really do any harm, just empty threats. Anyway, you're my, as you phrased it, locker mate, so I felt obliged to help you." Cameron peered at Damian closely. "You sure you're okay? You look wrecked, kid."

"I got beat up a lot back home," he murmured. "I thought maybe…people would be nicer here, that I could start over anew. I guess I failed."

"Hey, you've still got time," Cameron shrugged. "Don't let a few dicks ruin your foreign-exchange experience. You're from what, Ireland?"

"Um, Northern Ireland, actually," Damian said, unable to look Cameron directly in the eye.

"There's a difference?" Cameron licked his lips in a way that wasn't the least bit seductive, causing Damian to gulp hard.

"Well…well, yes," Damian sputtered. "Ireland is its own independent nation, and Northern Ireland belongs to the U.K., along with Wales and Scotland. There are also religious differences between the two."

"The things you learn," Cameron smiled. "So you're what, seventeen? Eighteen?"

"Err, sixteen, actually," Damian admitted. "I'm only in that science class because I was in the accelerated program in school at home. Science is kind of my thing." He blushed, sure that Cameron was turned off by how dorky that was.

"Geek," Cameron teased gently. "Eh, I like science too, I guess, but I like music better."

"Music?" Damian perked up a little. "Do you…do you play an instrument?"

"Guitar," Cameron answered with a tinge of pride in his voice. "And I can sing, and I write my own songs. You?"

"Oh," Damian said softly. "I can sing, I guess. Or at least, I like to."

"I'd like to hear you sing," Cameron whispered, a slight seductive edge to his voice.

Damian blushed harder. "Oh, no, I'm not _that_ good."

Cameron snorted. "Modest. Well, you best be off, kid. Don't worry your pretty little head any longer. If those dumbasses harass you again, let me know. I'll take care of it."

"Thanks, Cameron," Damian lisped. He watched as Cameron walked down the hall, hips swaying side to side, again wearing those deliciously tight jeans. Damian leaned against the wall; how was it that he felt so strongly about someone he hardly knew?


	5. Chapter 5

__**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Slowly, nor do I know Damian or Cameron.**

**Note: Well, four chapters left to go after this, so you can expect it to be done by the end of next week, dear readers.  
><strong>

_Falling slowly  
>Eyes that know me<br>And I can't go back_

"Why do I feel as if we've met before?" Damian asked Cameron at their lockers the next morning. "I just…I feel as if I know you, somehow."

"Don't be ridiculous," Cameron put his English notebook away. "Unless we met in another life, that's pretty much impossible."

"Nothing's impossible," Damian whispered.

"What'd you say?" Cameron turned his head to look at the dark-haired boy who was looking up at him with those big blue-green eyes of his. He shook his head; the boy looked too much like a sad puppy all the time, and normally he would've found it a little endearing, but today he just found it slightly pathetic.

"Nothing," Damian sighed. "I just…do you ever have that feeling that two people are just destined to meet one day? That you don't know when or where or even how, but you just know that they're going to meet and something special is going to happen?"

"Never," Cameron cracked a small smile. "What kind of magical mushrooms do they have you guys on over there in Ireland anyway?"

"Four leaf clovers," Damian corrected him. "And maybe it's just me. Maybe I'm just a sentimental fool, a sap."

"You may be sentimental," Cameron said, closing his locker. "But you're not a fool. Catch you around, kid." He clapped Damian on the shoulder before striding down the hall. The older boy's words rang through Damian's head; he'd just insulted him a little, but yet he'd complemented him, in a way. If only he understood, Damian thought, that I have this overwhelming feeling that you and I have met before. He felt as if he someone knew Cameron's eyes, that he'd seen those eyes before, and that those eyes knew him more than anyone or anything else knew him.

And that was the moment that Damian realized he was falling in love with Cameron Mitchell.

And he was in too deep.

And he couldn't go back.

* * *

><p>"Damian?" Sweet little Mary asked him. "Will you read me this story tonight?"<p>

"Of course," he put his pencil down, glad for a break from his math homework. His host parents were on a date that night, and Jack was at a friends' house and would be back in another half-hour. "What've we got here?"

"Cinderella," she said, giving him the book.

"Ah, a fairy-tale," he said. "But I'm sure you already know this one by heart."

"Yeah," she shrugged. "But it's one of my favorites."

"Alright," he sighed. He slid down on the floor to sit next to her and began to read. "Once upon a time, there was a young girl, named Ella. Her mother died when she was very young, and so she lived with her father." Fifteen minutes later, he closed the book, a brief expression of pain crossing his face.

"What's wrong?" She peered at him in concern. "Do you not like Cinderella?"

"No, no, I like her," he said. "It's just…life doesn't always have a fairy-tale ending."

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Sometimes, the bad guy wins," he tried to explain. "Sometimes, the girl doesn't always get the handsome prince. Or even, the prince doesn't always get the girl."

"Why?" She asked.

He paused. "I'm not sure why, Mary. That's just the way things work sometimes."

"Do you have a girlfriend back at home? Do you miss her? Is that why you're so sad?"

He smiled gently. "No, I don't have a girlfriend."

"What about a boyfriend?" She asked innocently.

His eyes widened. "Um, excuse me?" He sputtered, taken completely aback.

"There's this boy in my kindergarten class, and he has two daddies," she told him. "So I know that sometimes boys can have boyfriends."

He blinked at her for a long moment, still in surprise. The question was so innocent, and yet it took him away. "Well, I…I…"

"Yes?" She moved closer to him. "It's okay, I can keep a secret real good."

He sighed. "You promise you'll keep this between us?"

"Pinky promise," she held out her baby finger. He shook it.

"See, he's not my boyfriend," Damian tried to explain. "But I do have feelings for him, yes."

"Is he cute?" She teased.

"Very," Damian smiled. "But I don't think he feels that way about me."

"Why not?" Mary asked. "You're really nice and funny and cool and you've got that neat accent and you have really pretty eyes."

"It's…it's hard to explain," he shrugged. "But unfortunately, love is complicated. It's not all like it is in this book," he tapped its cover, "where the prince finds the girl and they instantly fall in love. Sometimes, you have to work hard at it. Sometimes, it takes a lot of tries to find the right person. For example, when your dad met your mum, it might not have been love at first sight, like it was for Cinderella and Prince Charming. They might have dated for a couple of years before they decided to get married. They might not even have liked each other when they first met."

"But sometimes girls like girls and boys like boys, right?"

"Right," he nodded. "And there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, Mary. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise, okay? When two people are in love, no one should tell them that it's wrong or that it's not okay for them to love each other. You got that?"

"Yes," she nodded solemnly. "I hope it works out between you and this boy, Damian," she said. "Because he sounds really nice, and if he can't see how totally awesome you are, then he's not the right prince for you." She hugged him tightly before skipping off down the hall to bed.

Damian looked down at the book she'd left behind, figuring she'd left it there for a reason, and if not, then he'd just return it in the morning. He sighed, picking it up and flipping through its worn pages again. How strange this country is, he thought to himself, that they have to instill this fairy-tale concept of love into the heads of little girls. Innocent little girls, like Mary, having to grow up thinking that they'll just fall in love and live 'happily ever after'! He shook his head, slightly disgusted at the American culture, and placed the book on his desk. He took a deep breath, thinking about Cameron. Until he'd met him, he'd been praying that he'd still have his happy ending with his ex-girlfriend. For after all she put him through, for all that she did to him, Damian still wished it could've worked out in the end.

But now, here was Cameron.

And now, he was in love, quicker and harder than he ever had before.

And he didn't _want_ to get out.


	6. Chapter 6

__**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Slowly, nor do I know Damian or Cameron personally.**

**Note: Well, I seem to only have one reviewer, but that's okay. This is my favorite chapter so far. Three more left in this story; hope you like.  
><strong>

_Moods that take me  
>And erase me<br>And I'm painted black_

"Damian, we know you're not feeling too well, so we asked Mary's regular babysitter to come over tonight while we're at Mark's company's banquet. Jack is at his friend's house; their number is on the table, should you need him. Feel better, okay? Oh, yes, and we've left the number of the venue on the table as well. We should be back a little after midnight. Any questions?"

"No, Amanda. I think I'll be fine, thank you. Have a nice time." Damian watched his host mother, dressed to the nines, hurry off to finish getting ready before going out the door with her husband to a fancy event. He was ill with a cold, his first while abroad, and didn't feel up to entertaining Mary that night, nor did he want her to get sick too. He had plans to lay in bed, read a good book, and down some cough syrup before getting a good night's sleep, hoping for another dream with Cameron in it. He heard the doorbell rang, and shuffled downstairs to answer it, still in his pajamas and slippers. "Hullo?"

"Well, if it isn't my locker mate," Cameron Mitchell smirked in amusement.

"Cameron?" Damian nearly fell over. "What…what are you doing here?"

"Cammie!" Mary came running from the kitchen, pouncing on the blonde.

"Hey, cutie. I've missed you," he hugged her.

"Me, too," she grinned madly. "Damian, this is Cameron, he's my babysitter."

"We've met," he laughed. "Damian and I go to school together, and we have science class together. His locker is underneath mine."

"Damian's living with us this year," Mary told him importantly. "He's my honorary big brother. Isn't that awesome?"

"That's the most awesome thing I've ever heard," he smiled. "Well, aren't you going to let me in?"

"Oh," Damian blushed, thoroughly embarrassed to have his crush catch him in his pajamas and bunny slippers. "Yes, of course. Don't mind me; I'm a little under the weather, so I'll, um, mostly be in my room."

"In that case, why don't you go get some rest? I've got things under control here," Cameron reassured him. "We'll just play some games, wash up, and read a book. Right, Mary?"

"Right," she nodded. "Can we play Candy Land?"

"You got it," he smiled. "Go on and grab it." She dashed up to the game closet. Damian stood there awkwardly, wishing desperately to disappear.

"Perhaps when she's in bed I'll come upstairs and take care of you," he winked.

Damian blushed harder. "Oh, I'll be okay…you don't have to do that, really…"

"Chicken soup okay?" Cameron moved towards the kitchen.

"Um, thank you, that would be lovely, or some…some hot chocolate, actually."

"Anytime," Cameron leaned against the doorframe. "Now you go upstairs, take a nice warm shower—you don't have a fever, do you?" Damian shook his head. "Then a nice warm shower. The steam is good for your chest. Put on some fresh pajamas and read a book or something. Promise, I'll be up there, hot chocolate in hand, in a couple hours."

"Yes, Cameron," Damian murmured, trudging up the stairs, passing Mary on his way.

"Is that him?" She whispered, her eyes bright. "The boy you like?"

"Yes," he whispered back. "But you promised; you can't tell him, okay?"

"I think he's cute," she whispered. "And I'll keep the secret, don't worry!" She dashed back down to the living room and proceeded to set up Candy Land, chattering to Cameron about what had been going on in kindergarten lately. Damian lingered on the stairwell for a few moments, listening to see if she would slip up—it wasn't that he didn't trust her, but little kids tend to not have filters when they speak—but she didn't. Heaving a sigh of relief, he went into the bathroom and took a warm shower, per Cameron's request. True to his word, the steam did end up making Damian feel a bit better, and the water felt nice on his skin. He tried not to think of the fact that the school's hottest boy was downstairs in the living room at that very moment while he was in the shower, not wanting to get aroused any more than he already was. He stepped out and put on crisp, clean pajamas, loving the feeling of the fabric against his body. He felt instantly refreshed, despite the slight chest cold, and settled into bed with the book he'd checked out of the library last week, glad to have a chance to read it. No time at all passed by before Mary stuck her head in the room. "Goodnight, Damian! Cameron told me to tell you that he'll be right upstairs with your hot chocolate, okay?"

"Okay. Thank you, Mary. Goodnight to you, too," he waved as she went to bed. He heard her door close, and knew from experience putting her to bed that she'd be out within ten or fifteen minutes. He glanced at his clock, surprised to see that it was only 9:30. There was a knock on his door, and he jumped, knowing it was Cameron. "Um, come in."

"One hot chocolate, as promised," Cameron was carrying a red mug, Damian's favorite color, which was steaming with the chocolate drink. "I hope you like marshmallows."

"Oh! Yes, yes I do," Damian gratefully accepted the mug. "Thank you, Cameron."

"I feel bad that you're sick. I mean, I like babysitting Mary and Jack, and I don't mind getting the money for it obviously, but I feel like I'm taking away from you here."

"No, it's okay," Damian took a sip. "I mean, obviously I don't get paid for it, but I love them like they were my own true brother and sister."

"Do you have any siblings?" Cameron perched himself in Damian's desk chair.

"Yes," Damian took another sip. "A sister, Gemma, and a brother, Emmett. They're both older than I am. I have a three-year-old cousin, though, Emma. She's real cute. And Emmett's going to be married soon."

"I have two older sisters myself," Cameron said. "So, tell me about yourself. I feel as if I see you every day, but I know nothing about you."

"Oh," Damian cleared his throat. "Well, um, what do you want to know?"

"Do you have a girlfriend waiting back home for you?" Cameron asked.

Damian nearly choked on his hot chocolate. "No," he said after he'd finished getting his breath back. "No, I'm…I'm single, yes…"

"I'm single as well," Cameron said, stretching his arms behind him. Damian's eyes widened, not believing his dumb luck. He had a chance! Maybe…

"Someone as fantastic as you is single?" Damian found himself asking, mentally kicking himself for calling Cameron 'fantastic' to his face.

"I elect to be single," Cameron told him. "Too much drama, too complicated for me. I just want to focus on graduating and my music for now."

"Oh," Damian drooped a little, spirits falling. "Understandable. So, um, where are you going to University?"

Cameron smiled a bit. "Is that what they call it over there? I haven't decided yet. Maybe I'll do community college for a couple of years. I know I want to do music, but I figure I might as well have a backup plan, in case."

"Sing something for me," Damian blurted out. "One of your songs."

"Well, well, well," Cameron looked surprised. "I don't usually do command performances, but I suppose since you're sick and all…" He ran his hands through his messy hair casually and began to sing. Damian nearly fell off his bed in shock at how _good_ Cameron sounded; better than he could've ever hoped or dreamed. He was spell-bound, simply captivated by the boy's voice, listening intently to the acapella performance, applauding when it was done.

"That was brilliant," he breathed. "You're…you're really good, Cameron."

"Ah, that was nothing," Cameron waved his hand, feigning modesty. "Ah, but you promised me you'd sing for me, did you not?"

"Um, well, um, I…" Damian sputtered.

"When you're feeling better," Cameron smiled a slightly devilish smile. "We wouldn't want you to hurt that pretty voice of yours, would we?" Damian wanted the bed to swallow him up right then and there. "Well, you should get some sleep. I'll be downstairs until they get home, probably writing songs or something. You know, if you need me," Cameron said. "Do you want me to tuck you in, too?" He winked in a completely flirtatious way, causing Damian to shiver.

"Um, no, I think I'm good," he murmured. "Thanks for the hot chocolate."

"No problem," Cameron mock-saluted him as he went out the door. Damian listened to his footsteps retreat down the stairs before flopping back against the pillows.

If he wasn't in love before, he most certainly was now.

And for a moment, he thought he had a chance. After all, Cameron did say that he was single, and had been awfully flirtatious lately.

But then again, he hadn't exactly said he was _straight_, had he?

Relaxation failing him, he got out of bed and checked the clock; 11:38. He still had a chance! He quietly walked downstairs, but too quietly; after all, he didn't want to scare Cameron away, even if unintentionally. "Cameron?"

"You still awake?" The blonde smiled from where he'd been reading on the couch, setting the book beside him. "What's up?"

"Couldn't sleep," Damian shrugged. "My mind keeps racing with thoughts."

"Wanna talk about it?" Cameron asked warmly.

"Yes…and no," Damian admitted. "It's not you…it's just…" he laughed in spite of himself and his current situation. "I have trouble trusting people sometimes."

"Let me guess," Cameron mused. "It was an ex-girlfriend who broke your heart, wasn't it? You dated for a year, maybe two, and then out of the blue, she dumped you."

"Sort of, yes," Damian squirmed. "Actually, I broke up with her."

"Then why the trust issues?"

"It's…it's a long story," Damian murmured.

"Sleep will help your troubled mind," Cameron said. "Take some of that cough medicine with codeine. That'll knock you the hell out."

"I just want dreamless sleep," Damian said out of desperation.

"Then turn your Irish ass around, go back upstairs, and get into bed. You won't get any sleep, dreamless or not, talking to me."

"Well…well, goodnight then," Damian said a bit sadly as he trudged upstairs, taking one last longing look back at Cameron.

That night, he had the Dream again...


	7. Chapter 7

__**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Slowly or personally know Damian or Cameron.**

**Note: I'm flattered that some of you have added this to your Favorite Story lists! This is an emotional chapter; just a warning. Two more chapters to go after this one; it will all be finished by the end of this week.  
><strong>

_You have suffered enough  
>And warred with yourself<br>It's time that you won_

"Oh come on, Damian! It's a Christmas party! Liven up," Cameron nudged the younger boy in an attempt to get him to dance, or at least talk.

"I'm just…not feeling up to partying right now," he slumped in his chair.

"Do you miss your family?" Cameron tried.

"Well, yes, obviously, as I'm spending Christmas apart from them for the first time. But I'm just…I don't know, my heart is heavy and my mind keeps racing."

"You just gotta relax, man! Let it all go!" Cameron swayed his hips in a failed attempt at making a cool dance move. "Come on, get up and dance with me!"

"Excuse me," Damian muttered, pushing past Cameron and running up the stairs, locking himself in his room. He slid down the back of the door and put his head between his knees, beginning to sob heavily, his shoulders shaking as he let it all out. He jumped when there was a knock on the door.

"Damian, what's wrong? Come on, let me in," Cameron's voice floated through the wood, the doorknob jiggling as he tried to get in.

"Go…go away," Damian said, voice shaky as he wiped the tears from his cheeks.

"Come on, I just want to talk to you. Did I say something wrong? Why did you run off like that? Look, whatever I did, I'm sorry."

Damian realized he had two choices. He could tell Cameron to bugger off, to just crawl into bed and stay there until he had to go back to Ireland. Or, he could let Cameron into the room and tell him everything that had happened.

He ended up choosing the latter option in a moment of insanity. "Hey," Cameron looked concerned "What's going on? Hey…hey, have you been crying?"

"Yes," Damian did not even try to deny it. "Yes, I have. Sobbing would be more accurate, or bawling, even."

"Did I say something? Really, please tell me if I did. I can be sarcastic and witty, and I think I'm being funny but I'm really hurting someone and I don't realize it."

"Close the door, please," Damian murmured.

"Yeah, yeah sure," Cameron quickly closed it as Damian went over to his closet. He opened the closet door and stepped inside. Cameron looked confused. "Uhh…"

"It's a walk-in," Damian's voice was muffled. "And it's dark and private…"

"Should I be going in there with you?" Cameron asked hesitantly.

"Please?" It came as more of a question than a statement.

"Well, alright…" Cameron awkwardly stepped into the closet, sliding the door shut behind him. "What's wrong with you, kid? I've never seen you like this."

Damian was gasping for breath between sobs. "Remember how I told you about the girlfriend? The one I broke up with?"

"Yes, of course I remember," Cameron said. "Hey…are you…crying again?"

"I broke up with her," Damian was crying harder now and finding it hard to control his emotions, not caring anymore that Cameron was in front of him witnessing this and that they were in his _closet_ for God's sake, "because she raped me."

"What?" Cameron felt as if he had been punched in the stomach. "Damian…"

"I'll tell you the story," he sniffled miserably. "If you sit down with me and promise you won't say anything until I've finished."

"Yeah, of course," Cameron sat down immediately, his heart racing. Is that why Damian always looked so pained, his eyes so sad and lost? Is that why he'd said he wanted to make "a new temporary life" here in America? He watched as Damian slowly sank to the floor, his blue-green eyes brimming with tears.

"Her name was Jenna," he said in a voice hardly above a whisper. "We met when we were fourteen. She was beautiful…she was…so beautiful…of course I made her my girlfriend. It was wonderful at first, really it was. But then," he took in a shuddering breath. "She kept emotionally like, abusing me, you know? Like she'd say something and then be all 'JUST KIDDING' or something like that. She…she'd put me down all the time but then be like 'oh, honey, I was just KIDDING', and then we'd kiss and make up. You know? I put up with it because I loved her. She was clingy, too, always wanted to be with me or make out or whatever. And how could I pass up a make-out session with a beautiful girl?"

Cameron absorbed the story with great interest, not saying anything as per Damian's request, but hoping he was getting across with his eyes that yes, he was listening, and yes, he did care about what the small boy had to say. He nodded, as if to say 'go on'.

"Well, we'd been going for about a year," Damian continued. "And she wanted to, err, do it. I didn't. I mean, I'm a teenage boy, so I should've _wanted_ to, right? But I didn't. I wanted to wait until I was married. Anyway, one day we were making out on her bed, and her hands traveled down, um, south on me. I told her 'no, Jenna, I don't want to. If we ever get married, yes, but not now, not when we're fifteen.' She laughed in sort of a demonic way and insisted that I'd enjoy it. I again told her 'Jenna, no. I want to wait until I'm married to have sex.' She laughed and pinned me to the bed. Before I could register what was going on, she'd pulled my pants and underpants down, and her clothes were off. It all happened so quickly, like everything was in fast-forward. I…" he broke off for a moment. "I need a moment to collect my thoughts." Cameron gave him a half-smile, letting him silently know that it was okay. After an endless minute and a half, Damian took a deep breath and began to speak again.

"She, well, climbed on top of me and, uh, penetrated herself. I didn't want to, I really did not want to. I panicked, and pushed her off. She fell onto the floor, and stared at me in disgust. The very next day, there was a rumor going 'round the school that I was a tease. Later, it evolved to that I was gay. The rumors kept going, worsening every day for a week. But she hadn't broken up with me yet. I found out from her best mate that she wanted to…that she…" Damian broke off again, swallowing around the lump in his throat. "She wanted to conceive my child so that I could never leave her." Cameron's eyes widened; whoever this Jenna girl was, he wanted to track her down and kick her ass for hurting such a special boy. "I broke up with her immediately. But the rumors didn't stop. They just intensified. I got words painted on my locker. I got pushed into walls. I nearly tried to kill myself once, things got so bad." Cameron gasped audibly at this revelation. "And even after she put me through an effective hell, I still loved her." He blinked at Cameron. "You may speak now."

"Damian," Cameron breathed. "I'm so sorry…I'm so freaking _sorry_. Is there anything I can do, anything at all?"

"Hug me?" Damian sniffled. "I mean, you don't have to if you don't…"

"No," Cameron said quickly, shaking his head. "I want to, I want to." He inched over and wrapped his arms around the smaller boy. "Shh, shh," he whispered soothingly as Damian began to cry again, sobs eclipsing his thin, frail body. "It's okay, Damian. Let it all out. I'm here for you, okay?" He closed his eyes for a brief moment. "I wish I could hurt this Jenna girl ten times more than she hurt you. Just because she's a girl doesn't giver her to right to sexually take advantage of you." He sighed. "Do you still love her?"

"No," Damian whispered. "The night I wanted to kill myself, I got over her. Actually, that's not true. I got over her at another point, but I've…I've divulged enough to you tonight. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have…"

"No, it's okay," Cameron reassured him. "You just needed to get it off your chest, I understand. I can't say I understand, but I can act as a shoulder to cry on." He realized that his arms were still around the brunette, and didn't really give a shit. Damian was wrecked, and it was clear as day that this wasn't an elaborate story created just to garner some sympathy; it was true, very real pain.

"I've never told anyone," Damian murmured, now feeling a funny fluttering sensation in his stomach due to being in the blonde boy's arms. "Not a soul, except God."

"Didn't the teachers do anything about the bullying?" Cameron asked.

"Of course not. Do they ever? No, they didn't notice, and if they did, they certainly didn't help me. Maybe they were all thinking what everyone else was thinking; that I was gay, or a tease, or an abusive boyfriend. Maybe they didn't care."

"Well, I care," Cameron said firmly. "You've suffered enough in your life, okay? I feel like now's your time. Now's the time to win. I promise, from now on, I got your back. Feel free to talk to me about anything, anytime, okay?"

"Do you honestly care, Cameron? I don't think I can stand a false friendship again."

"Of course," Cameron said with all sincerity. "Now, how about you say we get out of this closet, you go wash your face with some nice cold water, and I'll make us some hot chocolate? I'll put extra marshmallows in yours. We can just sit up here and watch a movie or something, get away from the party for good."

"I'd like that," Damian gave him a half-smile.

"Well, then get up," Cameron stood up and held out his hand for Damian to take. Damian grabbed it and allowed Cameron to help pull him to his feet. "Let's, no pun intended, come out of the closet," Cameron pushed open the door. Damian giggled a little at the irony of the situation and followed his crush. "You go get washed up, and I'll be back in no more than ten minutes with that hot chocolate. I promise," Cameron squeezed his hand for a half-moment before heading downstairs. Damian slipped next door to the bathroom, laughing at the sight of himself in the mirror. He splashed some cold water on his face, feeling a bit refreshed. So what if his secret was out? He could trust Cameron. Oh, he could trust Cameron will all of his heart and soul! He went back to his bedroom and settled on the bed. A few minutes later, Cameron came in with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, one red and one blue. "I remember red is your favorite color," he said.

"Well…yes," Damian smiled. "Yes, it is. Is blue yours?"

"Yep," Cameron returned the smile. "It's nice to see you smile, Damian. You have a nice smile, you know that?"

"Oh," Damian blushed. "Thank you."

"Here, let's put on the television and see what's on," Cameron offered. "Scoot over, would you? Damn, you're lucky, having this nice king-sized bed."

"Oh, of course," Damian stammered, blushing harder. Oh God, oh God, his heart raced. Cameron Mitchell is _in_ my _bed_. And he _cares_ about me! He _cares_! He _held_ me!

"Oh, I love this movie," Cameron settled on ABC Family.

"_Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory_?" Damian grinned. "Oh, it's a classic!"

They had a great time, singing along to all the songs and quoting along with the lines. And that night, Damian slept, and did not have the Dream, but instead, dreamt of Cameron holding him close, whispering to him and making him feel safe and loved.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Slowly or know either of these boys.**

**Note: Yeah, so this chapter may or may not end on a cliffhanger, depending on my mood. Just warning you guys now; final chapter to come in a day or two.**

_Take this sinking boat and point it home  
>We've still got time<br>Raise your hopeful voice, you have a choice  
>You've made it now<em>

"Damian," Cameron held out a Christmas present when they met up the day after Christmas. "I, um, I know I should've given this to you earlier, but it's Boxing Day today, so I guess that still counts."

"Small gifts _are_ sometimes exchanged on Boxing Day, yes," Damian smiled softly, accepting the box. "But Cameron, you didn't have to get me anything."

"I wanted to," Cameron shrugged. "Besides, you deserve this, trust me."

"But I didn't get you anything," Damian felt instantly guilty.

"My birthday's in a couple of months. You can repay me then," Cameron winked. "Go on, open it. You know you want to!"

"Okay, okay," Damian laughed. "Let's see what this is, shall we?," he tore off the wrapping paper excitedly, wondering what Cameron could've possibly gotten him. "What's this?"

"Well, you know how the seniors have to do that year-long project in order to graduate?" Cameron asked. Damian nodded. "Well, mine was about music therapy. Do you know what that is?" Damian nodded again, words failing him again. "Well, I recorded a CD of my songs to show the judges. This is one of the first copies. I wanted you to have it. I, uh, I autographed it, on the inside cover."

Damian opened it carefully, squinting to read the inscription. "To Damian. Remember that you are an amazing person. Never let anyone tell you otherwise. Yours, Cameron."

He swallowed, hard. "Cameron, this is…wow, thanks," he breathed.

"It only has five songs on it, but it's kind of my first album—well, more so an EP—but I think you'll like it. Or at least, I hope you will. 'cause, you know, I wrote all those songs, and this thing kind of determines whether I graduate or not."

"I'm sure you will," Damian smiled. "You're the best friend I've ever had, you know that?" He flung his arms around Cameron in a gigantic hug.

"Um," Cameron stood there awkwardly as Damian clung to him. "Um? You're welcome?" He shook his head. "Please let go now."

"Oh, sorry," Damian stepped back. "I'm just…this is one of the best gifts I've ever received, it truly is. Thanks, Cameron. Thanks so much."

"No problem," Cameron clapped him on the shoulder. "Sorry to run so quickly, but I'm visiting some of the kids at the hospital and singing to them."

"Oh! How nice," Damian grinned. "Well, I won't keep you, then."

"Catch you at the New Year's Eve party," Cameron mock-saluted as he left. Damian sighed in rapture and immediately rushed over to his laptop, inserting the CD and playing it. He'd heard Cameron sing once before, and while he'd enjoyed it then, he loved it now. Cameron's voice washed over him, and Damian appreciated how heartfelt the songs were and liked how Cameron had a folksy/alternative sound to his voice. He noticed how all but one of the songs featured only a guitar and Cameron's voice, and enjoyed the acoustic style greatly. His favorite was a song called "Love Can Wait", and he found himself replaying it several times before he was called down to dinner.

"Is Cameron your boyfriend?" Mary asked innocently as they sat down for the meal.

Damian choked on his water. "Oh, goodness no! We're good friends, that's all."

"Mary," her mother chastised her. "Don't ask such personal questions, please."

"I think they'd be cute together," she said, pushing her mashed potatoes around her plate.

"Mary," her father warned.

"It's okay," Damian said. "Mary, Cameron and I are good friends. We are not boyfriends, and we will not be anytime soon."

"Okay," she sighed heavily. The meal progressed as it normally would, and Damian helped his host mother do the dishes afterwards.

"I can't help but to ask, but _is_ there something between you and Cameron?" She asked, genuinely curious as to why her daughter would bring it up in the first place.

"We're in the same science class," he told her. "And his locker is above mine. We're…we're friends, yes…"

"This is an accepting family," she handed him a plate to dry. "If there's anything you want to talk about, you're certainly free to."

He sighed. "I do have feelings for him, yes. I thought I was straight, but then I met him, and now I'm not so sure anymore."

"Cameron's a nice boy," she told him. "We've always trusted him. In fact, his mother was my college roommate, so they've been a part of our lives for years. He's very handsome," she smiled warmly. "And if you wish to keep this between us, I will."

"Please do," he whispered. "He doesn't know how I feel yet, and I'm not sure I'm ready to tell him."

"Your secret is safe with me," she rubbed his shoulder gently. "Now, hand me that dish."

* * *

><p>"Happy New Year," Cameron said as he and his family arrived for the New Year's gathering. "Hey, Damian. What's up?"<p>

"I'm good, I'm good," he smiled. "I, um, I listened to your CD. It was fantastic, really, it was. My favorite was Love Can Wait."

"I'm glad you enjoyed it," Cameron returned the smile. "It means a lot to me. So I'm guessing you're my first real fan?"

"Yes," Damian nodded enthusiastically.

"Well then," Cameron smirked. He stepped closer to Damian, leaning down to whisper in his ear. "You promised me you'd sing for me."

Damian drew in a sharp breath. "Tonight," he muttered.

"I'm holding you to that," Cameron murmured. Later, he pulled Damian aside and they stole away to Damian's bedroom. "Okay, kid. Now sing for me."

"What do you want to hear?" Damian asked quietly.

"Can you sing in Gaelic?" Damian nodded. "Something in Gaelic, then."

"Okay," Damian cleared his throat. "The English translation for this song is 'Come by the Hills'." He cleared his throat again and began to sing. Cameron raised a brow in surprise; Damian was miles better than he thought. Of course, he had no idea what Damian was singing—Cameron couldn't speak a word of Gaelic, though he liked the sound of it—but he was loving it. He noticed the faraway look in Damian's light eyes and wondered what he was thinking of, or who he was thinking of. He waited until Damian had stopped singing—who knew Damian was a baritone?—before clapping slowly.

"Amazing," he said sincerely. "I never would've guessed."

Damian looked a little embarrassed. "I don't sing often, but it does help me to relax."

"See, that's music therapy right there," Cameron pointed it.

"Yes, I suppose it is," Damian admitted. "Oh…oh, look, it's 11:59."

"And forty seconds," Cameron checked his watch. "Let's count it down. Ten…nine…"

"Eight…seven…six…" Damian continued, taking a cautious step towards the blonde.

"Five…four…three…" Cameron stepped towards the younger boy.

"Two…" Damian whispered, his breath hitching as Cameron was standing toe-to-toe with him, his heart pounding wildly.

"One," Cameron murmured. And he leaned down…

_And he kissed him._


	9. Chapter 9

**Disclaimer: I don't own Falling Slowly or know Damian or Cameron.**

**Note: Heh, sorry about that cliffhanger last time, guys. Also, this is obviously the end of the song and the end of the story. Listen to Damian's version of this song; it's wonderful and was the direct inspiration behind this. Methinks he was singing it with someone (cough Cameron cough) in mind…and you? Thanks for sticking behind this story and adding it to Favorite/Alert!**

**Note 2: There is a vague hint in this chapter as to what one of my next full-length stories is going to be about. Find it, and you get a cookie.**

_Falling slowly  
>Sing your melody<br>I'll sing it loud  
>Loud<em>

Before Damian could register what was happening, Cameron was kissing him. He closed his eyes, melting into the blonde's lip's touch, his heart fluttering. From behind his eyelids, he saw fireworks, and he was glad Cameron's hands were on his hips, for surely he would've fallen, the kiss made him so dizzy. Cameron pulled away.

"Oh my God," Damian breathed. "Cameron…"

"I'm really superstitious," Cameron explained. "If I don't kiss someone at midnight on New Year's Eve, I have an unlucky year. And…you were here…and I was here…" He laughed at the look on Damian's face, so stunned and amazed. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"I have a gigantic crush on you," Damian blurted out. "And I have since we met."

Cameron's expression changed in a millisecond. "Wow. I, um…wow," his face paled a little, and Damian began to worry.

"Oh, I shouldn't have said that! I've made you uncomfortable…I…oh, stupid me, me and my big bloody mouth!" Damian fretted, worried he'd just ruined the moment.

"I…I need time to think this over," Cameron backed away slowly. "I'm so sorry, Damian…I just…I need time, okay? I'll…I'll call you…or something…I'm sorry." With that, he turned and ran out the door and down the stairs to wait by his parent's car for them to join him and go home. Damian's hands shook; oh, he _had_ messed things up! He'd been kissed by Cameron—_Cameron_ had kissed _him!_—and he'd been an idiot and blabbed about his crush and now Cameron was uncomfortable. Hands still trembling, he went over to the window and looked outside, where he could see the street. He watched as Cameron paced back and forth by his folk's car, lost in thought. Eyes pooling with tears, he had to tear himself away from the view, and he climbed into bed, still in his regular clothes, and he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

><p>"'lo, Cameron," Damian mumbled at school the following day.<p>

"Please, Damian," Cameron closed his eyes for a moment. "Not now."

"I was just saying hello," Damian said, slightly offended.

"I still need time," Cameron said through gritted teeth. "This is just as hard for you as it is for me, okay? Now just go…lay low for a few days, alright?"

"Fine," Damian retorted, slamming his locker door closed with a bang that resembled a gunshot echoing through the halls. "If that's the way you want to play the game, Cameron Mitchell, then that's how you'll have it."

* * *

><p>"Why do you look so sad, Damian?" Mary asked him as he read to her that afternoon.<p>

"I told Cameron how I feel about him," he admitted. "And I don't think he took it very well." He wasn't sure how to explain to her about how life wasn't a fairy-tale.

"Was he mad?" She asked.

"No, I think he was just surprised and not sure how to handle it," he explained. "He said he needs a few days to sort out his feelings for me."

"I think he likes you," she said, resting her head on Damian's shoulder.

"Why do you think that?" His heart picked up speed.

"'cause he looks at you in a special way like how Daddy looks at Mommy and he talked about you when he was babysitting me and he kept smiling and stuff," she said.

Damian blew out a puff of breath. "I…I'm not so sure," he said. "He…um, well, on New Year's Eve, he kissed me at midnight."

"He did?" Her eyes widened, and she lifted her head to look at him. "Then why doesn't he know if he likes you?"

"I've been asking myself that question since that night," he sighed.

"How did it feel?" Her eyes were big and brown and genuine.

"It felt…" he paused, trying to explain how incredible such a moment felt. "It felt a little like flying," he finally said. "Like floating in the clouds."

"Is he your Prince Charming?"

"I don't know yet," he said honestly. "But he might be. I hope he will be."

"I hope he is, too," she said. "'cause then you'd be my honorary brother, and Cameron would be like, my honorary uncle or something."

A small lump formed in his throat. "I'm…I'm your honorary brother?"

"Of course," she snuggled against him.

"Oh!" He smiled, patting her back gently. "How very sweet of you."

"Can I visit you in Ireland someday?" Her voice was muffled against his shirt.

"I'd like that," he said earnestly. "I'd like that a lot."

* * *

><p>"Damian, hey, there you are," Cameron said softly a few days later.<p>

"I don't wish to talk to you right now, Mitchell," Damian said curtly.

"Can't we just talk about what happened between us?" Cameron asked, speaking to Damian's back. "You can't deny that something was there, Damian."

Damian closed his eyes briefly, not wanting to—

Wait.

Had Cameron just admitted that something had been there between them?

"Did you just admit that there was something between us?" Damian whirled around quickly, nearly falling over Cameron, whom he hadn't realized was right behind him.

"Like you didn't feel it," Cameron scoffed. "You told me to my _face_ that you have a crush on me." He put his hands on Damian's shoulders. "Damian, I've known who I am for years, okay? I know that I'm different. I dress different than the other guys, I talk different, I speak different. I'm not like the other people around him. Like you, I'm an outcast with just a few companions who understood me. But no one seems to understand me like you do." He sighed. "And as confident as I am in that I know who I am, there's one thing that I'm _not_ confident about."

"What's that?" Damian dared to ask, suddenly aware of how close Cameron was to him.

"I'm not confident about my feelings for you," Cameron said bluntly. "Okay? I've been questioning my sexuality for as long as I can remember. Maybe it took you to fully realize that I'm not entirely straight. Maybe you and I, we were meant to find each other so that we _could_ discover our true selves."

"So what are you saying?" Damian breathed, not quite meeting Cameron's eyes.

"What I'm saying," Cameron went on, "is that there's one thing I am one-hundred percent sure about right now. And that is that I want to kiss you again."

"What?" Damian gasped. Surely he wasn't hearing this correctly. Surely this was a dream. Surely Cameron wasn't saying that he wanted to kiss again, and he was spacing out in class again, stuck in fantasy-land.

"Honestly, Damian, you're lucky you're so damn cute," Cameron muttered, pulling the younger boy in and kissing him firmly. Damian staggered, falling clumsily into the blonde's arms. Again, the fireworks appeared behind his eyelids, and as his lips parted slightly, he found that Cameron tasted a bit like cinnamon, and he nearly swooned at the taste of it. He instinctively deepened the kiss, not caring if anyone happened to walk by at that moment. All he knew, right then and there, was Cameron.


End file.
